


Glad Tidings

by theglamourfades



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Canon Compliant, Christmas, F/M, Family Fluff, Post-Canon, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28074867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglamourfades/pseuds/theglamourfades
Summary: ...a.k.a. 12 Days of the Bateses. 12 days, 12 ficlets, all Christmas themed. Both set within canon / post-canon.
Relationships: Anna Bates/John Bates
Comments: 22
Kudos: 5





	1. Tree

**Author's Note:**

> 12 days, 12 ficlets! They'll cover canon and post-canon, include appearances from other characters, but will definitely all be focused on Anna and Bates (as you might know by now, they're who I'm about :) )
> 
> All of the ficlets were prompted by a single Christmas-related word, which you'll see as the title of each chapter.

Christmas had not begun at Downton Abbey until the tree was standing proud and adorned in the hall.

Going back years, Anna had been one of the members of staff who was employed in decorating it and she did her utmost to make it look the best it possibly could, trying each year to outdo the previous year's efforts. There had been a Christmas or two when she had not been involved, for obvious reasons.

Since the children had come along the traditions had changed and it was left to the youngest members of the Crawley family and their parents to dress the tree. She did not mind being usurped, of course, not when Miss Sybbie, Master George and Miss Marigold were so excited about carrying out the very important task.

The trio became a twosome when Miss Marigold left to live at Brancaster, but the nursery was quickly added to, gaining two new additions in quite quick succession, one of whom was Anna's darling boy. She spent nearly as much time in the nursery as she did in the servants' hall or assisting Lady Mary, checking up with her son as often as she could. Nanny confided in her that he was the easiest and most pleasant-natured of the four children, a fact that she couldn't help but be proud of.

She hadn't really thought about the tradition until Christmas Eve came around, and she happened to be in the nursery with Johnny when Mr Branson entered to announce that the tree had arrived, with Miss Sybbie and Master George running towards him eagerly. He smiled at them both and said that they were more than welcome to join in; that it was only right and expected. Johnny had been a little too young to understand what was happening the first year but he very much enjoyed the lights, being mesmerised by them as Anna held him in her arms. Miss Caroline, being younger still, slept in Nanny's arms throughout the whole ceremony.

The next Christmas Johnny had more of a notion of something special taking place. He still preferred to be cradled by his mamma, which Anna did not mind in the slightest (she knew that she would certainly miss having him so close when he got too big and too independent to be carried around). She did pass baubles into his little hands – nothing that was fragile or at risk of breaking easily – guiding him to the branches that were within reach and being full of praise when he fixed them on with careful fingers, and only a little bit of help from her. Miss Sybbie was keen for the girls to take one side of the tree and boys the other, so Johnny and Master George, along with their mothers, were sent to the left, while Miss Sybbie and Miss Caroline stayed on the right accompanied by their fathers. Anna and Lady Mary talked and laughed, beaming bright as their sons made a fine job of decorating 'their' side.

"Mama, there isn't a space for this one," Master George said, looking up at his mother and tugging lightly upon her skirt.

"I'm sure that we can find somewhere, darling."

While Lady Mary hunted for a spare branch, Master George reached the nutcracker figurine that was in his hand up towards where Johnny was hoisted, his head inclined towards Anna.

"You can keep this one, Johnny," Master George uttered, looking and sounding very much like his father. "If you have a tree at your house, you can put it on that."

"That's very kind of you," Anna said to the boy, smiling warmly as Johnny reached his hand down to where Master George had extended his own, holding out the decoration. "It will go very nicely on our tree. What do you say, Johnny?"

"T'ank you, Gorge," he said.

Anna hugged her son a little closer, laughing at the way he clutched onto the nutcracker like a prize.

Miss Sybbie wanted to know which side had 'won', and only sighed for a little bit when Mr Branson declared it a draw.

Their own little tree at the cottage was not quite as grand as the one at the Abbey but all three members of the Bates family considered it just as beautiful – if not more so – and the nutcracker figurine took pride of place upon it, looking as noble as any true soldier.

* * *

"Well, I'd say that's just about finished. What do you think, Jack?"

The lad looked rather pensive, walking around to consider the tree from all angles with a hand upon his chin. Archie, the faithful attendant, could not help but smile at the eldest Bates child, who was really quite serious when he wanted to be.

"Yes," he said after a great deal of thought, "I think so."

It was at that moment that Anna and John came through into the reception from different directions, smiling at one another at their sense of timing.

"Ah, here's your mum and dad," Archie said. "How do you say we've done, Mr and Mrs Bates?"

Anna considered the tree with her hands placed on her hips, before clapping her hands together. "I think it looks wonderful. The best yet, I'd go so far as to say."

Jack's eyes went wide at his mother's appraisal. "You really think so, Mum?"

"Most definitely," she answered, going forward to place a hand on his head, giving his hair a loving ruffle.

Jack turned from his mother's look with a proud smile to seek his father's opinion. "What do you think, Dad?"

"I'd say you've done very well indeed," John uttered, wearing his best straight-faced and staid expression, "the both of you. There's one thing missing, though."

Jack's face fell suddenly. "But, the nutcracker…"

"Not the nutcracker," John replied, pulling a gold and shining object from behind his back, "this."

Anna smiled as she looked between father and first-born.

"I think you should do the honours," John said, holding out the star towards Jack.

"But…shouldn't Robbie do that?"

"He's fast asleep at the moment, love," Anna answered, holding his blue-eyed gaze dear, "and I don't think we ought to leave it unfinished."

Before he could say any further, John had both hands secure to Jack's sides and lifted him up in the air. Anna wanted to tell her husband to be careful, but he looked over his shoulder to give her a reassuring smile, saying that he could manage without uttering the words.

Jack put the star in place valiantly, earning a kiss on the cheek from his mother and a "well done, son," from his father as he planted his feet back on the ground.

"It looks magnificent," Anna reaffirmed, admiring the finished tree, her hand resting on her eldest boy's shoulder.

"And don't forget," John said, looking at Anna and then Jack with a knowing smile, "there's still another one to do. Saving the best until last."

Anna replied with a grin of her own. "I'd have to agree."

That evening, the six of them gathered – including Emma, Charlotte and baby Robbie – to decorate their own tree in their home, not quite as grand as the one that stood in the hotel, but which Anna preferred, with its paper chains and pine cones, and snowflakes made from old napkins, as well as the occasional wrapped sweet dangling here and there. It was not the finest but it was a tree full of love, that was for certain.

And front and centre, hanging right in the middle, was the nutcracker, passed to them by the heir of Downton Abbey.

A reminder of where their family had started, making things complete at the most special time of the year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that Baby Bates would prefer / want to be called Jack when he is a bit older, because I can't get on board with his name in canon, whoops.


	2. Bells

"I heard a funny noise last night."

"Oh, eh." Thomas arched an eyebrow at Daisy's comment that came out of nowhere. Even though Mr Carson wasn't in the room, he refrained from saying anything further.

"What did you hear, Daisy?" Anna enquired, looking up from her spot beside Mr Bates at the table.

She took a few seconds to reply, an expression of uncertainty on her face. Whatever it was, it surely couldn't have been that bad.

"I don't know exactly…but it sounded like bells."

Thomas did a terrible job of covering his sniggers of laughter, while at his side Miss O'Brien charged into life.

"I long for the day when I don't have to hear bells," the lady's maid exclaimed, "that sound will haunt me to my grave, and dare I say far beyond it."

"It weren't like those bells," Daisy replied quickly, her voice more timid and uncertain than moments before, "I came downstairs to check."

"You must have been very quiet," Mr Bates said, looking up from his book.

"I stayed for about ten minutes or so, just to be sure, but I couldn't hear anything. They were very quick, like a little rattle. But really clear, and they happened a few times. Did nobody else hear it?"

Nobody responded in the affirmative, which made Daisy look all the more worried.

"I'm sure it was nothing," Anna said after a moment or two, to be reassuring, "it was probably just the furniture creaking, there is so much of it."

"Maybe it was a ghost," Thomas added, unhelpfully.

"You don't think…" Daisy answered, hands clutching onto her apron.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised," Miss O'Brien followed, "not with how far this house goes back."

"And we know at least one person who's snuffed it under this roof," Thomas quipped, plucking another cigarette from his pocket.

"Don't start that," Anna said, a note of warning in her voice.

"You're probably right," Daisy addressed Thomas, "oh, I should never have said anything."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Mr Bates said, calmly, "if there is any such thing as ghosts, they're not liable to harm you."

"Of course, you can fight them off with that stick of yours, Mr Bates."

Anna shook her head at Thomas, though he didn't notice or would be bothered in the slightest. She then looked at Mr Bates, who caught her looking and smiled warmly at her.

"What's all this?" William said as he came rushing into the room.

"Daisy thought she heard some bells," Thomas supplied, "in a house that's full of them."

"Never mind, it was silly of me," Daisy said, and then paused to consider, "unless, did you hear them too? Last night, about one o'clock?"

William frowned. "No, I can't say I did. I believe you, though."

"You'd better keep your wits about you," Miss O'Brien said after a few moments had passed, "it is the time of year for spirits. Ask Mrs Patmore to spare you some salt, a cupful should do the trick, and keep it outside of your door."

Both Anna and Mr Bates rolled their eyes at such nonsense, as Daisy set off on her heels, hopefully not to raid the cupboards for that purpose in particular.

* * *

"Well, that were no good. I heard them again," Daisy exclaimed, "just the same as before, but a bit later this time."

"Heard what?" Mrs Hughes asked, not being there the previous day.

"Bells," Daisy said, just as Thomas swept into the room.

"Oh, not these bloody bells again."

"Mind your language, please, Thomas," Mr Carson, ever-omnipresent, cut in.

"I don't know what's happening," Daisy said, "I'm getting a bit worried."

"I tell you what's happening," Thomas replied curtly, "your ears are going. I think someone should let Mrs Patmore know, so she can ask for a replacement."

"I swear, I heard them!"

"Now, let's not get ourselves all in a bother," Mrs Hughes came in, acting the referee and going towards Daisy, whose cheeks were glowing. "If you're not feeling well, Daisy, then you know that you can say so. We wouldn't begrudge you, even now."

"I'm fine, Mrs Hughes, honestly. It's only at night I've been hearing them. I can't believe nobody else has."

"I should say we're all dead to the world once the clock strikes midnight. Or perhaps it's because I'm of a certain age."

"I'd say it was," Thomas commented, not quietly enough to avoid the housekeeper hearing and fixing him with a steely glare.

"We'll have to keep our ears out," Anna said, offering a gentle smile to Daisy.

"That we will," Mr Bates replied, looking towards the kitchen maid and then catching Anna's eyes once more.

* * *

She had gone into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, and it was only coincidence that it was around the time that Daisy had remarked of hearing the mysterious bells. They had been working so hard that if it wasn't for the carols earlier that night she would have forgotten that it was Christmas Eve entirely.

She wouldn't stay down for long. It probably wasn't anything. Not that Daisy couldn't be trusted, it was just that she did work longer hours than any of the rest of them, so for her to be hearing things wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

A couple of minutes and nothing but silence. Time to go back to bed.

Then she nearly ran into him, his footsteps so quiet but his figure unmistakable.

"Mr Bates," she said in a hushed tone of voice, though she wasn't exactly sure why given that there was nobody else up and awake. "I was just getting some water."

Even in the shadows she could distinguish the curve of his smile; perhaps she had been looking for it for too long.

"Not to investigate the source of the unknown bells?"

"Well," she began, feeling a little sheepish, "seeing as I was down here anyway, I thought there was no harm in hanging around to check. But no joy, I'm afraid."

"That's a shame," he replied, his voice low and warm, "perhaps it will take a cup of tea."

_At this hour_ , she thought at first, but quickly found that she couldn't refuse, especially not when it meant being in the company of Mr Bates with no one else around.

They stayed up to finish their cups, Anna struggling to fight off her yawns. It was always lovely to talk with him but she felt like she wasn't giving her best, and not too long afterwards they agreed to return to their respective quarters, else they were liable to miss out on the morning's festivities.

"Mr Bates?" she called, as he headed in the opposite direction, towards the door.

"No harm in checking," he said, and so she followed his steps, shivering slightly as she felt the chill of the wind creep through underneath, even though it was shut tight. "Do you believe?"

"In what?" she replied with curiosity.

Another smile. "Father Christmas."

She felt like laughing, but instead composed herself to look completely serious. "Of course. Do you?"

"Most certainly."

His reply made her feel fuzzy inside, as earnest as it sounded.

"Perhaps that's what it was."

"But it's only Christmas Eve tonight," she said.

"I would say that he has to do a few test runs. I'm sure Yorkshire is the perfect place to do so."

She did let out a giggle then.

"Perhaps you're right."

They said their goodnights fondly, almost like they were sweethearts reluctantly parting at a station. _Such a silly thought_ , and she scolded herself for thinking in such a way. She crept quietly back into the room, being cautious so as not to wake Gwen. Her roommate was fast asleep, as was usually the way.

It was only a few seconds after she got back into bed, barely having rested her head on the pillow, that she heard them, sounding as if they were right outside the window.


	3. Peace

The war might have been over, but it was much too soon for the world to have gone back to normal.

If, indeed, it ever would.

The house felt quieter than ever before, without so many of the injured soldiers. There had been uncertainty and even some resistance at first but it had been good and important for the house to have a purpose. It was a bit strange to think about things reverting to the way they were before. Four years was not a long time, not when anyone thought about the history that the Abbey held, even from the previous generation. Anna was quite certain that the Dowager Countess would live to see a hundred, if not even longer than that.

Four Christmases had passed while the world had been at war. It seemed surreal to think about, and yet they had all got used to it. There wasn't much else to be done. It was the best present anyone could have asked for, for peace to have fallen. Of course it had come much too late for so many.

It was not going to be a grand celebration this year. It made sense, really; it was only just over a month since the armistice had been called, and it would have seemed crass for the family to do anything on a large scale. Even Mr Carson had agreed about that. Neither were there to be any guests outside of the immediate family. Anna had thought it a little unusual that Lady Mary had not invited Mr Carlisle, given how serious they were. _It doesn't seem right_ , she had said. Then again, she was not entirely convinced of Lady Mary's certainty about everything when it came to Mr Carlisle, and certainly not since Mr Crawley's injuries.

She was thinking with her own heart, because she certainly could not imagine spending the time without John. They had spent two Christmases apart, which had been quite enough. At least with the last she had known he was nearby, and they had seen one another the week beforehand.

That they were together, under the same roof and by each other's side as often as would allow, was the greatest blessing she could have hoped for, along with the dreadful war having come to a conclusion.

He had been downcast, Vera doing her work from beyond the grave. It was a very strange business, they both knew that much. She certainly wouldn't have put it past her to come up with some sort of wicked plan which had not yet come to fruition. But she didn't want to think about that, wasn't going to let it mar the Christmas that was ahead, one that they could have to themselves – in as much as they were able. Thomas and Miss O'Brien had made their comments, asking why things had been so quiet and fishing for information which they were not going to get.

None of that mattered, not to Anna. The only thing that mattered was that they were with one another, safe and sheltered from the cold. They had their health, they had their lives. They were happy, despite all that surrounded them.

It was true that they did not know what the future held, but nobody did. Not even the Crawleys, with all their great comforts and wealth. The last four years, with all the damage that it had wreaked on the rich and poor and all creatures inbetween, had proved that beyond all measure.

They sat up for a while on Christmas Eve, ignoring the looks from a certain lady's maid and footman, with Mrs Hughes giving her approval that as it was Christmas they could stay up later, so long as they got enough sleep for the day that was ahead and all that it would contain. They spoke about their memories of the time from years gone by, about how grieved they both were that William was not there; the pain of his loss was felt all the more now that Christmas was here.

Somewhat naturally and expectedly, the conversation turned to what could be around the corner. She did not want him to feel burdened with his worries, not as the hour of midnight was so soon approaching. If anyone deserved the deepest peace that the season could bring, with the magic that it had to make all seem golden and shining, then it was him, though of course it should have been his for much longer; all eternity, if she had her way.

When he was at a loss, overwhelmed with weariness and the weight that was too heavy for him to bear alone, she reminded him of the fact that he needn't do so; that she was made of far sterner stuff than she looked, which made him smile and look at her with so much love that she thought she might burst.

She put her hand in his, held onto it tight. She passed up a prayer silently, feeling so grateful for all that she had. Him most of all.

"Let's not think about that for now," she said, all the while knowing it would take him some effort. She could help with that, though. "Given that we're together for it, let's just have a very happy Christmas."


	4. Mistletoe

"It was the Celtic druids who most likely started associating mistletoe with love and prosperity." Mr Molesley's voice resonated around the hall, though he didn't speak particularly loudly. "Because it blossomed even through the winter they viewed it as a symbol of hope and strength. They were also known to administer it to animals, as well as themselves, in order to encourage fertility."

His words cracked a little uttering that last sentence, while the younger maids giggled amongst themselves.

"Did they, indeed," Mr Carson murmured, phrasing the remark as a statement rather than a question so as to discourage any further comment.

Mr Molesley was not deterred, however. "Of course, we can go back to Norse mythology too, and the story of Baldur's death at the hands of Loki, his brother. Depending on what version of the story you prefer you can think of mistletoe being a weapon of battle, or a symbol of peace and friendship. I prefer the latter, myself."

"You're ever so clever, Mr Molesley," Daisy said, with admiration in her voice, "where do you get all this from?"

"Oh, just from reading, mainly," he replied, modestly, "you can learn all kinds of things from books, when you get the time to yourself. And I've always had an interest in history."

"I dare say you're wasted in this profession," said Mrs Hughes, "you should try your hand at the village school, if they're in need of help."

"That's very kind of you, Mrs Hughes, but I'm happy where I am. After all, it took me long enough to get here!" he exclaimed with a laugh, and then composed himself once more. "What do you say, Mr Carson? It was the servants of the late 18th century who gave mistletoe its current tradition, so I think we'd be honouring our descendents by having some up in the hall."

Mr Carson unfolded his hands, his expression far from amused. "I admire your arguments, Mr Molesley, but my final decision is no. There's been quite enough gallivanting and unacceptable behaviour in the recent months, and I will not do anything to encourage it further. We should all remember that this is a respectable house, and that it is our duty both as a collective household and individuals to carry ourselves with the honour and dignity it deserves."

It was not only Mr Molesley who looked disappointed by Mr Carson's ruling, although the maids and the footmen probably had quite different reasons for their sulking.

Anna and John shared smiles between themselves before the various bells rang, and they departed with a brief squeeze of hands until the time came for them to head back to their cottage. Three months on from moving in and the excitement about going home together at the end of the day had not worn off. Neither of them imagined that it ever would, not with all they had been through.

"Where do you stand on the mistletoe debate?" John asked as they'd got home that night, pottering between the sitting room and kitchen.

"I think it's a bit of fun," Anna replied, her eyes bright as she spoke, "and it does look pretty as a decoration. Mr Carson is taking things a little bit far, really. But it's his say at the end of the day. I hardly think a sprig here and there is going to send us all into debauchery."

John chuckled at that. "Mr Molesley did try his best. Though I do wonder whether he had some ulterior motive." He expanded as Anna looked rather perplexed. "I know that he was after you, a while ago. Some mistletoe hanging from the eaves would mean bowing to tradition, which of course must be adhered to. Though I should have liked to keep an eye out."

"Silly beggar," Anna said, her tone light and teasing, "I wouldn't have said that he was _after_ me. Anyway, I'm quite sure that's all in the past now."

She went over to where John was standing by the sink, enclosing her hand around his and snugging in close by his side.

"Besides, I always made my intentions very clear. That my heart was not up for claim, having already been taken."

They both smiled at that, and John dipped down to spare the strain of Anna having to get on her tiptoes.

"I do hope that he finds his happiness, though," she went on to say, looking thoughtful, "there is a sock for every shoe, or so my mother used to say."

"I'd say so," John replied, looking down at his wife lovingly, "if I deserve my happiness, then Mr Molesley certainly deserves his, too."

She returned his look of pure affection, her arms circling his middle. "And you shall continue to have it, Mr Bates."

* * *

As the time got closer to Christmas they gradually got the cottage decorated in readiness for the season. It wasn't much; a few spare cuttings from the gardens which they'd asked to salvage before they were thrown aside, some old decorations that were no longer used in the house and that they'd also begged pardon for. There were a couple of newly-bought things, only very small, which Anna had not been able to resist on her last trip into Thirsk. It was nice just to have something of their own, no matter the size.

It reminded her that the cottage really was theirs and that she wasn't living in a dream world.

John had got back from a trip into the village to stock the cupboards and she put the things away while he went to change. It wasn't until after she went to ready herself for the afternoon's duty at the house that she spotted it, tied above the door that came from the kitchen into the living room.

She stood beneath it, looking upwards for a better view, and then saw him coming into the living room, a smirk on his face at what she had discovered.

"Is this your doing?" she asked him, the smile evident in her words.

"I thought that it would be a grave dishonour to my Celtic heritage not to pay respect to something they clearly held so dear," he answered, going towards her, "as well as to the many generations of servants who have gone before us."

She shook her head, even as her face was filled with a grin.

"I should have thought you'd know by now that I don't need any excuse to kiss you."

"That's true, Mrs Bates," he smiled, slipping an arm about her waist, "but I don't think that it hurts to have something else as a reminder, just in case it should slip your mind."

She smiled before he captured her lips tenderly, honouring the tradition as they stood beneath the bough.

"What did Mr Molesley say again?" he said as they broke apart, though not going very far away at all.

"I don't know what I think to you thinking about Mr Molesley just now," Anna replied, stifling her laughter.

"Something about fertility, I think it was."

She tapped him gently on the chest, bursting into a grin and not moving a centimetre from where she stood.

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see about that, won't we?" she replied, before their lips met once more.


	5. Snow

Being the parents of three young children, as well as the proprietors of a hotel, meant that they were well used to being woken early in the morning, whether it be by the need to get things in good order for the day ahead or by little people who were eager for their next adventures to get underway.

The second were the ones responsible for the early call on this particular morning, with exclamations that were particularly excited.

"Mum, Dad, it's snowing!" announced Jack, leading the charge.

"There's a lot of it too!" followed Emma.

They greeted one another with sleepy smiles, all hope of putting their son and daughters off just for a little longer soundly dashed when Charlotte, showing great agility, climbed up onto their bed.

"Come on, Mummy and Daddy! Get up before it goes away!"

"I don't think there's much trouble of that, not if your sister is right," said John, putting his hands to Charlotte's sides and placing her gently back on the ground, leaving Anna to rouse more slowly.

"I am, Daddy, honestly," Emma said, pleading her case with the utmost sincerity.

"You always are, my little love. Now, why don't you all go and get yourselves washed and dressed, and then once we've had breakfast we can see about making the most of it."

"I'll be in in a few minutes in case you should need any help," Anna promised, emerging from the bed and putting on her robe.

"Jack, you're in charge of looking after your sisters first and foremost," John said, keen to ensure that Anna had enough time to herself before the day began. "And no hurrying now, in case anyone causes themselves a mischief."

While the children went off to get ready, they looked out of the window and saw a thick white blanket covering the ground below, as well as decorating all of the trees.

"I expect we'll get at least a couple of delays today," John said, "the roads will have come to a halt."

"It's a good job we're not doing too badly, and can afford not to have the price of one night."

"I'll make sure that whoever comes late will get a suitable rebate."

Anna gave a squeeze to his arm. "You are very generous, Mr Bates."

"It ensures a good rate of return in custom," he replied with a smile, "and like you say, we can afford it."

From the bathroom giddy voices could be heard, clearly full of anticipation to enjoy some frolicking in the snow.

"You don't have to do their bidding all the time, you know," Anna said, her voice full of reassurance, "I can keep them occupied. They'll probably be complaining that it's too cold after twenty minutes, and be clambering to come in and sit by the fire."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Jack was born amongst the snow, after all."

"Not literally. Not that I've forgotten, anyway, but I would have certainly remembered that," she said, laughing. "I don't want you to feel you're obliged, that's all. If it's going to cause your knee trouble, it's really not worth it."

"I will always be grateful for your concern," he said, bringing her hand to his mouth. "I'll see what's what with the guests we are expecting this morning if I can, and check on a couple of other things, and then I'll be out to join you all. I can't go missing the fun, now, can I?"

Anna felt like shaking her head soundly and telling him not to be so silly or stubborn, but the better part of her was glad. She cherished every second they spent as a family as her dearest possessions, and held every memory that would make up the fabric of their children's childhoods close and warm within her heart.

They'd no sooner finished their breakfast and the children, all three of them, were getting down from their seats at the table and hurrying to put on their coats and boots. Anna half wished they would be so enthusiastic in getting ready for school in the morning. She called out to them all by name, dropping into the office on the way to let John know that they'd be heading out.

She found them lined up by the door waiting for her, one little girl at each side of their older brother, and the sight made her heart swell. They hardly complained as she fussed with each of them in turn, making sure that their hats were secure, and they all had their scarves and mittens on in place.

When they were all ready to go she opened the door, and out they raced into the garden. After the first few seconds she knew that there wasn't much point in telling them to _be careful_ , as they were far too caught up in wonder. She was a little taken by it herself, not recalling the snowfall having been this much for a few years, at least.

"Can we make a snowman?" Jack called, already getting his gloved hands into the powdery snow.

"Of course we can," Anna replied, holding onto Emma's hand – she was a little bit more reticent than her brother and sister.

"I think we should wait for Daddy to come out too," Charlotte said, while Jack had already started to bundle up the snow in readiness.

"He won't be too long," Anna reassured, "and he won't mind you getting started without him."

Suitably placated, Charlotte joined her brother in piling up the snow to assemble their creation.

"Mummy, I don't want to make a snowman," Emma uttered, looking up with her big blue eyes at Anna.

"That's okay, sweetheart," Anna said, rubbing her daughter's little hand in her own. "We can just stay here and watch."

"I want to go and find the snow fairies!" Emma exclaimed, her eyes brightening at the prospect.

Anna smiled at how joyful her youngest – as Charlotte was the older of the two, by five minutes – looked.

"Well, we can certainly try to find them," she replied, smiling widely, "but I think we'll have to go down to the bottom of the garden to have the best chance."

And so the two of them went off in pursuit, Anna keeping one eye to further up the garden all the while. Jack called out to her, asking whether he could go and get some things from inside to decorate the snowman. She agreed, calling out to Charlotte to come and look for the snow fairies too while Jack was busy.

He came back and joined them all, telling Anna that the snowman was finished. Charlotte was rather sad that her father still hadn't come out to join them, but Anna soothed her, reminding her that he was very busy with the hotel, but that it was still very early in the day.

"Come and see the snowman, Mum," Jack said, pulling upon Anna's hand in his eagerness.

"Wait one moment, darling. Emmie, are you okay to try and find the snow fairies later on?"

"Yes, Mummy," Emma nodded her head, "They're probably in bed at the moment, so I'll write them a note to say we were looking for them."

"That's my girl," she said with a smile. "Okay then, let's see this fine figure of a snowman."

As she let Jack lead her back up the garden she couldn't help grinning at the sight before her.

"What do you think, Mum?"

"Oh, I think he's very wonderful, indeed."

Not two minutes later John emerged from the door, complete with scarf and gloves but missing one rather important item.

"Anna, you don't know where my hat is, do you? I don't know where else I would have put it…"

The answer to his question soon became clear, when he saw it sitting it atop the head of a snowman, who looked like the double of himself – as far as could be distinguished in snow form.

"It's a snowman you, Daddy!" Charlotte exclaimed, running over to John.

"Well, I'm very pleased with him," John replied, clutching one of his daughters tight to him as the other one came over to hold his hand. "Now, I think we ought to make a snow Mummy so he's not lonely, don't you?"

He smiled over at Anna, setting her heart further alight.

"And a snow Jack, a snow Charlotte and a snow Emma, too."

"Is there enough snow for that, Daddy?" Emma asked.

"Oh, I think so," John said confidently, "but if there isn't, then we'll have to ask the snow fairies very politely if they'll bring us some more."


	6. Wrapping

Anna smiled down at their son as he lay in his cot, already asleep as she could discern from the soft rise and fall of his chest. He'd had quite the day's play in the nursery at the house, both Miss Sybbie and Master George keeping him entertained. The children were more playful than usual, given the excitement that was in the air about Christmas being so close.

Looking at him now, so peaceful in slumber, she knew well that he wouldn't really be aware of what all the fuss was about. Yet she was excited on his behalf, eagerly anticipating his first Christmas. He probably wouldn't have any memories of this particular Christmas as he grew up, aside from knowing that he was happy and loved ever so much. She hoped he would always be certain of that; when he was old enough to comprehend, she was certainly planning upon telling him how he had been wanted and longed for more than the world itself and she could only hope that he wouldn't be too embarrassed by the fact.

Regardless of how much of this Christmas made its way into his head, as opposed to his heart, she was determined to make it as special as it could possibly be. The only thing that couldn't be guaranteed upon was the snow, but she had already sent up a few prayers for that and she was sure that she wasn't alone in hoping the wish could be fulfilled.

She heard soft but discernible footsteps at her back, and smiled as she came face to face with John. He came to stand by her side and she watched him as he stared in wonder at their darling boy, her gaze going between the both of them. It was almost impossible to believe that nearly a whole year had passed since he had made his entrance into the world and made both of them happier than they could have ever dreamed possible.

"No lullabies or stories tonight, then," he said in a voice only a touch louder than a whisper, careful not to disturb their precious boy as he slept.

"He must have been tired out, bless him," Anna replied, smiling back at him.

They marvelled for a few more quiet moments, with Anna adjusting the swaddling so that he would be cosy but not too tightly hemmed in. John watched fondly from the door, aglow with love for the both of them.

"Snug as a bug in a rug," she uttered softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his soft, smooth forehead. "Sweetest dreams, sweet-pea."

It was a little early for them to retire themselves just yet, and besides, there was some important business that Anna wanted to take care of, seeing as they had the time to do it. She went into their room to retrieve the bags, wondering for a moment if perhaps they had gone a little overboard. She quickly decided against that way of thinking, however, considering that there wasn't that much, and certainly not in comparison to the many presents that Master George and Miss Sybbie were likely to be receiving come Christmas morning.

Anyway, she thought that it was entirely fair if they saw fit to spoil their son for his first Christmas, seeing as they had waited so long for him.

She was glad to find John at the kitchen table, ready with the paper, when she made her way downstairs, even if he didn't look quite so thrilled at the prospect as she was.

"Half each," she said as she started to dish out the gifts between them, "I think that's fair."

"Give it a few minutes, and you might come to think differently."

"You can't possibly do much worse than I did last year," she replied with a wide smile, thinking of her poor efforts, being somewhat hampered by the fact she hadn't been able to get down onto the floor or really do much movement at all given how big she had gotten.

"At least you had a very good excuse," he returned, his eyes brightening temporarily with a smile as he recalled.

She let herself share in the happy memories and then seized the sticking tape, taking off some pieces before passing it onto John. "Enough putting it off. We'd better make a start."

He looked rather reluctant, but got underway soon enough.

While she had wrapped two of the presents in quick succession and was onto her third she heard a muttering of curses from across the table, along with a loud and sustained rustling of paper. She tried hard to stifle her laughter, feeling that he wouldn't particularly appreciate it in the circumstances.

"Oh dear," she said when she finally did look up, having finished wrapping the third gift, "I think that he might do a better job if he were to have a go himself."

She didn't think she'd ever seen him look so disgruntled ever before than he did right then.

"It's much easier wrapping books or things in boxes," he offered in his defence, nudging his head towards the small pile that she had neatly taken care of, "trying to disguise a teddy bear is much harder. And don't even get me started on the spinning top!"

"Alright," she said, trying to placate him and reaching over the table, "I'll swap you."

He gave her a small smile by way of apology, and also, she suspected, to show how grateful he was of her offer.

"I don't see why we need to wrap anything anyway."

"I know we probably don't need to, but it's all part of the experience, isn't it? I want him to be surprised, even if it won't take him very long to open them."

He tilted his head, extending his arm to cover her hand, stopping her mid-flow.

"He's going to have a wonderful time."

"I hope so," she said, with a smile. "Imagine if he spends more time playing with the paper than the toys themselves."

"That's a distinct possibility," John replied, "but he'll find time for everything, I'm sure. Then there are the birthday presents, too."

"We haven't done too much, have we?"

"I don't think so. It is our first time at this, so if we have then I'm sure we'll learn for the future."

She smiled across the table at him, glad that they were on the same wavelength.

"Perhaps Mrs Hughes might be able to give you a masterclass before it comes to wrapping the birthday presents," she suggested, biting back her laughter.

"I'd be careful of what you say," he replied, aiming to keep a straight face but not altogether managing it, "or you might find yourself disappointed on Christmas morning."

They both laughed then, knowing that could not possibly be the case, not this year or the many more that were to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a slight liberty with history here, as according to the font of all knowledge (Google) sellotape wasn't invented until 1937. But there must have been some alternative before then, right?


	7. Candles

The advent wreath sat beneath the window, placed there so that anyone who should be passing could see the glimmer of the flames. There was something about them that exuded more than warmth. They were beacons, guiding lights for those who had lost their way. A promise of brighter days and new life, not too far in the distance.

Anna wanted anyone who was in need to be able to see the candles lit in their home and feel something in their extinguished spirit spark to life again. _You are not alone_ , she wanted to say to them, _keep on going_ , _because there are better things to be found._

She was one who could vouch for the truth in those words, as she looked into the face of her loving husband, finding his eyes always adoring her and his arms always ready and waiting to welcome her.

She felt the truth of those words when she saw the beaming smiles and curious gazes of her three darling children, so bright and kind. Miracles, all of them, and bringing nothing but shining joy into her life.

Together they lit the candles, one each Sunday as the weeks passed and the most special day of them all came closer. She listened to their questions and served to give the best answers that she could. The candles counted the weeks until the birth of Jesus, and each stood for something which could always be found, even when the days as well as the nights seemed dark. She talked about them when each was in flame, hoping that she was doing justice with her explanations.

_Hope, peace, joy and love._

The things that you will always find in your heart. She smiled as she spoke and tapped their heads one by one, as though she was adding to each of their flames.

John was full of praise for her once the children were asleep, and the candles were snuffed for the night, to be lit as appropriate again the next morning. _If you ever wanted to, you could change your career_ , he told her, with a kiss to her forehead before they headed to bed themselves.

She smiled underneath his lips, and murmured what was entirely true.

_I already have the best job in the world_.

The final candle remained unlit until Christmas morning, when the house was alive with enough excitement that could power the whole village. Even so, the children still waited to open the first of their presents until it was lit, and Anna's heart was full as she saw how they all regarded and admired it with reverence and true awe, knowing what it meant, as young as they were. John put an arm around her, drawing her closer to him as he saw how affected she was.

As was tradition, and had been since they had worked at the big house – and now, carried on while they had a house and a hotel of their own – they went to church on Christmas morning. It was something important to Anna, and the mass always moved her greatly. It was one which was full of joy, too, with the singing of the hymns and the rejoicing of the arrival of the light of the world.

They saw familiar faces there, which was a very happy sight. Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes, who marvelled at how fast the children were growing. Mrs Patmore, and Mr Mason. Some years brought new faces. Both Anna and John were delighted to meet Daisy and Andy's youngest child, a babe in arms in every sense, just two months old, as beautiful as anything. Their two boys were full of smiles, one held by their father. Daisy had that fulfilled but exhausted look about her, which was one that Anna recognised well. _That's the last of them now,_ she said, looking up at Andy as he grinned down at her, as proud as punch.

Miss Baxter – or rather, Mrs Molesley – made her way over too, once the congregation began to file out from the doors into the chill but bright morning, followed closely by her husband, always full of good cheer and regaling them with the successes of his students, in a most humble and earnest way. Anna asked them how they were getting on with their cottage, while Mr Molesley kept Jack well entertained with fact after fact pulled from history.

Not far from where they were stood, lining the back of the church, were rows of candles, not so big as the ones which were part of their wreath. Some were burning with bright and tender flames. Others had been left, not passed by or overlooked, but patient, waiting.

"Mummy," said Emma, pointing to the candles, "why are there so many candles here?"

"Did Jesus put them there?" asked Charlotte from the other side of her.

"Not quite, my love," Anna replied, smoothing her hand against Charlotte's hair, "but he does see every candle that is lighted. And he knows that every light on every candle means something very dear to someone."

The family walked nearer to the rows, along with their friends.

"You see, the people who are close to Jesus, in heaven, are here with us when we light a candle. We do it so they know that we are thinking of them and wish them well."

"Wish them a happy Christmas?" Emma asked.

"Yes," Anna smiled, "that's very important. When we light a candle we show that we love those people who aren't with us anymore."

"And that we always will love them," John added, holding onto Jack's hand.

"Can we light some candles, Mummy?" Charlotte said.

"I think we must," Anna replied, "especially today."

So Anna lifted Charlotte, and John held up Emma so each could carefully, and with hands ready to help, add a small flame to two candles. Jack used some of the flame from one of his sister's candles to light his own. Anna noticed that Daisy lit a candle, leaving Andy cradling their youngest child as she looked on, tears coming into her eyes.

And then both Anna and John added two lights, smiling at one another, remembering the sorrow they had felt at what was now a happy time.

As the flames grew larger against the light of others, they looked upon the faces of their children and were more than overjoyed for everything they had.


	8. Cocoa

There was never a shortage of food at the big house at Christmas, even in the servants' hall. Mrs Patmore made sure that nobody was ever left wanting, and once the family were taken care of there was more than enough to go round.

Out of everything that was on offer – and most years there was everything that anyone could ever think of or want – Anna's favourite was something perhaps unexpected, or at least not the item that most people would choose.

She was always extremely happy when she could finish the day with a warming mug of cocoa. It was a treat that wasn't only reserved for Christmas, of course, but Mrs Patmore would make it more regularly in the run up, even with everything else she had to do, and Anna was grateful for it. They would sit round of an evening, talking and laughing with their hands wrapped around their mugs, and it was as though magic was being weaved in the air, through the existence of things so simple.

_It's because you have a sweet tooth_ , John would say as the years went on, laughing fondly at her preference. She agreed, but it didn't feel as indulgent as say, a generous helping of Christmas pudding with custard or cream. It was an understated pleasure, but one that was nonetheless delightful.

Mrs Patmore would often give them the leftovers to take back to the cottage, or, sometimes, she would make more than she really needed to, especially for Anna; though she didn't say so explicitly, so as not to attract criticism from certain quarters who were not shown quite so much special regard.

There were years that she was especially glad of the comfort it provided, the fire going in front of them and the mug in her grasp, which would loosen gradually as she relaxed and felt a sense of calm coming upon her, her head and her eyes drooping while John was sat by her side.

Sometimes, the most simple things were the best, and the feelings they created were never to be taken for granted.

* * *

It had been quite a busy day, indeed. There had been a flurry of arrivals and departures at the hotel, at what seemed like all at once. It also just so happened to be the day that Anna had promised the children that they would do some baking. She was quite sure that they would have been understanding if she had chosen to delay to another day, but instead she pressed on, not keen on letting any of them down. The hopeful looks on their faces and shining in their eyes was simply too much to deny.

It took the whole of the afternoon, and the kitchen was in need of a good sweep afterwards to properly clear all of the flour and bits of pastry that were strewn about, but a proper clean could come the day after. Between the four of them they had made biscuits, gingerbread, fairy cakes and even a few mince pies. Most would be for the guests at the hotel, but it was perfectly acceptable to keep those that weren't quite up to scratch appearance-wise for themselves. The majority were to be saved for Christmas itself, yet there was no harm in having a little something now, at least after dinner had been eaten.

John put together a wonderful fire, and when it was roaring in the hearth both Emma and Charlotte begged their father for a story. He was quick to acquiesce, and while they got themselves comfortable and he searched for the right book to read from, Anna prepared something to go along with their sweet treats, having in mind that it was a very good opportunity for it.

All three were delighted when they were passed their mugs of cocoa, having inherited a love of sweetness from their mother. She warned them gently to wait for it to cool, lest they burnt their tongues. By the time they were all settled down – the children gathered around John on the settee as he read the chosen tale, and Anna watching and listening from the seat by the fire – it was the perfect time to partake.

Any other day and she might have worried that the biscuits combined with the cocoa could have been an unhelpful combination, but the sugar did not provide enough of a rush to keep them wide awake that evening, given all of their hard efforts throughout the day.

She would have been asleep herself, if she hadn't wanted to relish in the sight of John and their darling son and daughters snuggled up together on the settee.

As it was, she finished off the contents of her mug and smiled, wondering whether any dream she would have ever again could be as perfect as the life she was living.

She very much doubted it.


	9. Frozen

Even though it was getting colder both Anna and John thought it was important for the children to get their daily exercise, and even with things being busy at the hotel, they made a point of getting up and out early to get a decent walk that would ensure they started the day as they meant to go on.

There were some tired eyes at first, as well as the odd mumble of complaint that it was too cold to go outside; a fact that seemed all the more difficult to contend with when it meant leaving a cosy and warm bed to be immediately bathed in chill. John would put forth a rallying cry to his little adventurers, full of anticipation and eager talk about all the wonderful sights, sounds and smells that they might happen to encounter. Surely and not that slowly this did the trick of getting them into the mood, as well as Anna who also required a little coaxing – probably more so than the children, when it came down to it.

They were lucky to have their home and business somewhere so beautiful; just at the end of the village, where it was easy enough to reach the fields and woodland. They wouldn't go too far into the wilderness but there was no need to; there was more than enough room to roam. The grass was tinged with the white of the early morning frost, not yet melted away, the vast sky above a purple canvas which was brushed through with strokes of yellow; sunshine breaking through to make the day a beautiful, clear and crisp winter's one.

In years gone by he would have been somewhat reluctant to venture further than a few yards, too terrified that he would be made to pay for it later in the day with agonising pain that gnawed against his knee, travelling the length of his leg. Likely he would have been up for most of the night with it; days of discomfort the unfortunate price paid for what should have been nothing but a pleasure.

He was quite willing to make the sacrifice now, though it was no such thing at all. He felt that life could not be more idyllic as it was at this very moment, as he watched his children walk and skip and run in front of him, always so full of wonder at the world around them. His wife by his side, keeping in time with his steps, only ever drawing forward if something went amiss with one of the trio.

They continued to walk the edge of the frozen fields, Anna's arm linked with his, talking of the year that had been and looking ahead to the one that was to come, while not venturing too far into the distance.

Jack's voice travelled over the still air, and they looked at one another, more than a touch alarmed. They had learnt a lot in the time they had been parents, the number one thing not to overreact; things were never usually as bad as they seemed.

Still, it was impossible to let go of the shock of fear utterly and completely.

Anna picked up the pace, nearly bolting across the field, with John following as fast as he could behind. From where he was he could see all three of their children crouched near to the ground in a little clearing by some bushes, which were more twigs than foliage.

The cause of concern soon became apparent, with John hearing what the matter was from Jack's exclamations to Anna before he arrived properly at the scene.

"It looks hurt, Mum. Like it can't move its wing."

"Let's have a closer look," Anna said, gently warning the girls to stand up and move back.

Jack remained fast by her side, mirroring his mother's movements, except that his had more anxiety built into them.

John formed a guard around both of them, smiling at Anna when she looked up at him over her shoulder. Jack was too preoccupied with the injured bird lying helpless on the ground to notice the look of reassurance that passed between his parents.

"Should we take it home with us?" the boy asked, his breath coming out fast along with his words, making a mark on the freezing air.

"I think that's a good idea, son," John replied, removing his scarf to have something to shelter the bird with while it was held, "we can give it somewhere quiet and warm to recover."

"And when it is better, then we can let it fly away again," Anna added.

Emma and Charlotte seemed happy enough with that reasoning, and were already walking off again.

Jack, however, remained to be completely convinced. "But what if it doesn't get better?"

John and Anna looked to one another, not wanting to mislead their son with false hopes and outcomes that they couldn't be certain of. Now was not the time to confront the harsh reality that might have lay ahead, however.

"We'll do our best," John spoke first, his tone more confident than he felt inside.

Jack's eyes were wide and seemed glassy in the light that was still early, although the cold was perfectly capable of bringing tears on its own.

"And that's the best we can do," Anna added and also echoed, placing a hand on Jack's shoulder. His worries seemed to ease a little at the words from both his parents and from his mother's touch.

As soon as they got back to the house they set about making a shelter for the bird, with John's scarf still accompanying it. The presence of the creature caused excitement amongst the girls and a protective instinct in Jack, and Anna and John had work in keeping all three away at first. Eventually the situation calmed, and as a family they checked on it at regular intervals.

Over the days, even the hours, it was evident to see improvements. What they had first considered to be a broken wing was not so, Anna and John concluding that the bird must have been in shock, with the low temperature not helping matters.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, another bright and frozen one, they took the cardboard box into the garden, Jack being the one to hold it with careful hands. It was the wonder of nature, to see such a small thing take flight once more, so swiftly. John pointed out the path with his hand, although of course they couldn't be completely sure that it was where the bird had travelled. As cold as the day was, their hearts were warmed by the good deed they had done.

There was a little moping, but the occasion of the day soon took over everyone's thoughts, and it was only when they climbed into bed that night that they took the time to reflect.

"I suppose we'll have to be on our guard," John said, with not too much apprehension, "they might want a kitten or a puppy next."

Although he thought that a smaller animal might be a more reasonable step up, first.

Anna only smiled, resting her head against his arm as the lights went out.

"I think the first port of call is to get you a new scarf."


	10. Joy

All night her heart had rung with it, and in the morning when she woke – from the deepest sleep she had had for months, if not years – for a few moments she wasn't entirely sure that it hadn't been a dream. She dared not turn her head upon the pillow for the fear that whatever she would find had melted away like the faintest dusting of snow confronted with the warmth of the sunshine.

She knew she was being silly, however, because she could feel him. His breath on the back of her neck, his hand resting against her hip.

Her husband was next to her again, in his rightful place beside her. At home and in their bed.

The anguish had not disappeared but it had been conquered by what seemed to her like nothing short of a miracle. She kept replaying the moment in her mind, although she had more than enough to content and delight her in tracing each part of his face, pressing her palm against his chest so many times. It had almost been like their wedding night again, the love and happiness transforming into light that could have blinded with its pure brightness. The thoughts, emotions and sensations colliding in her head, making her almost breathless, until she arrived once more at the time when joy was given to her like a gift when she believed she had been overlooked.

This Christmas was going to be nothing like she had expected.

The temptation was to stay in bed for the whole morning, and she was certainly sorely tempted to do just that, given that she had spent so much time – one singular night being too long – there alone. Mrs Hughes had said that she didn't expect to see her at the house until noon at the earliest. What she meant by that was that she should spend the morning catching up on her rest, even though such a thing was impossible to do without John.

With him back, she was incredibly glad that she hadn't pleaded with the housekeeper to be there at dawn instead.

"I will have to go to the house," she said to him as they dressed.

"Of course," he replied. She watched him, somewhat entranced, as he fixed the buttons on his waistcoat and worked with his sleeves. It struck her, though of course it was far from being a novel feeling, how much she had missed their routines, and him most of all. "But I don't need to. Not if it will cause a fuss."

"I don't care what it causes," she exclaimed in reply. She was putting the last of the pins in her hair, otherwise she would have been over to him like a shot. His reflection in the mirror looked back at her, with a knowing smirk on his face. "What are you going to do otherwise, stay here on your own all day?"

"I suppose so, yes."

She didn't say anything more until she was touching him again, once more convincing herself that he was real.

"Everyone will see the change in me. Yesterday I was as miserable as sin, even with the good news that you'd be coming back eventually. Today I can't take the smile from my face. You know that there could only ever be one reason for that."

His eyes wrapped her in an adoring look, leaning into her touch as she placed her hand to cup his cheek.

"I'm very glad to hear you say that."

She could only smile in reply.

"I know everything isn't rosy," she said, smoothing her hands down his chest, seeing how his expression was beginning to shift ever so, "but I'm already convinced that this is the happiest Christmas that I've ever had."

The smile came back within a second of her finishing, and if her heart wasn't so full of sheer joy she would have burst into tears.

"And here's to it getting happier, still."

They were in their own little world as they made the walk from the cottage to the house, too occupied with one another to consider what anyone else would make of it. It only felt different when they got within seeing distance of the servants' entrance, and Anna clasped onto John's hand a little tighter. She probably should have said something before leaving the night before, at least to Mrs Hughes, but she'd been so swept up that it hadn't occurred to her.

They deposited their coats and hats, giving one another a last smile shared between themselves before the secret was out.

She was glad to find the hall fairly quiet at that particular moment, despite the day that it was.

"Anna," Mrs Hughes said, standing up from her seat at the table, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she returned to the housekeeper, "I hope it's been a good one so far."

"Oh, you know. It's nice to not be up quite so early." Anna knew Mrs Hughes was trying not to seem too enthused for her sake, and she was glad of her empathy. "Lady Mary passed on your present to me with you not being here this morning. I've saved it in my parlour, though I think she would like to see you open it."

"Thank you, Mrs Hughes. I have a bit of a present for you all, too."

"Oh my god!" Mrs Hughes exclaimed when she saw John step forward into the hall, causing Mrs Patmore to come in from the kitchen and Miss Baxter to look up from where she sat, with a bright smile lighting her face. "Mr Bates. What a surprise this is!"

"It's wonderful," Miss Baxter said, "when did you get here?"

"Last night, during the party," John answered, sharing a look with Anna.

"That explains it," Mrs Hughes said, grinning at the pair of them, "I thought you'd gone off to get an early night. Well, I'm so happy for you both. I hope you're planning on staying, though I don't like to think we're intruding on your day."

"Of course not," Anna replied, "it wouldn't be Christmas if we didn't spend it here, with all of you."

"Especially when things could have been very different," John added.

"I'll have a word with Mr Carson about getting something fitting for us to drink. And I doubt that I should have to ask," Mrs Hughes turned to Mrs Patmore, "but I trust that there's enough to fill an extra plate at the table."

The cook, who had been unusually quiet, nodded her head and smiled. "Oh, you know better than to doubt me, Mrs Hughes. It's so lovely to see you, Mr Bates. I haven't quite recovered from the shock."

John and Anna smiled at one another, both knowing that Mrs Patmore had been the first one to see him enter the house the night before.

The rest of the day went on wonderfully indeed, and while it was nice for them to be at the centre of some good news for once, the only thing that mattered to the both of them was that they were together for the happiest day of the year, and truly happy once more.


	11. Father Christmas

The invitation from Lady Mary had been unexpected, and hardly prefaced with any kind of letter containing pleasantries. It was issued to all of them to spend Christmas Eve at the Abbey, with a special note to the children that their presence was required at a party.

John thought it rather unusual, and made the point that they couldn't drop everything at the hotel on the command of Lady Mary. Anna was more easygoing, reflecting that most of their guests would be departed by then anyway – it was usually the case that they only had a couple of people staying over Christmas, and they never required much attention. Though the invitation appeared to be an open one they needn't stay for the whole season; just for the day, and as long as the party required them. It would be nice to see everyone, and especially for the children to spend time with the children of the family.

In short, she was able to twist his arm quite easily.

They arrived fairly early in the morning, greeted by Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson. It made sense for him to be there given the occasion, but they were soon informed that Mr Barrow had had to visit his sister and so would be away from the house until Boxing Day at the earliest. Mr Carson looked well, and was especially pleased to see the children, something which delighted Anna and John. He was more than happy for them to stay in the servants' hall, which was really quite depleted these days. Mrs Hughes told them that Daisy and Andy would be dropping in later in the day, with their children also having been invited to the special party. It made them all the more intrigued, and half wondering whether the whole village had not been invited.

Anna and John went up to see Lady Mary and the Earl respectively to say their hellos in person. It was a little strange at first, given that they had not worked at the house for four years, but they settled soon enough, and it was not like they hadn't seen them since. Both found that it was nice to catch up, and especially to express their thanks for the invitation. Anna dropped into the nursery to see Master Edward, Lady Mary's youngest child, and found herself being greeted by memories that felt as though they had happened only days before, of when she had been working and was a frequent visitor, checking in with Jack as often as she could.

Lady Edith and Lord Hexham arrived in the early afternoon, at which point they had already been to the village and back with Miss Baxter. The girls especially were already tired, and not wanting to bother Lady Mary about the nursery, Anna thought she would ask Mrs Hughes whether she might use her parlour for the purpose of the girls taking a nap.

She was stopped outside of the door, where she could hear talking within that was louder than murmuring.

"I don't see why it is so important. Especially given how old Master George and Miss Sybbie are now. They're both clever, and they'll know something isn't right."

"That may be so, but the other children are young, and if Master George and Miss Sybbie know what's good for them then they won't say anything."

There was a little pause, then the first voice spoke again.

"Well, I'm certainly too old for it now. Mr Barrow really does choose his moments to be away."

"I'd hardly say that it was his fault that his sister's husband broke his arm. I suppose I should be pleased, even if there will be tears before bedtime."

"Why's that?"

"Well, I never thought I'd live to see the day that you finally refused the blessed Lady Mary one of her wishes."

Another pause, which was followed by a deep sigh of exhalation.

"You're right. I can't possibly disappoint the children. Not tonight, of all the nights of the year. I'll do it, but I dare say this is the last time. What is it?"

"Oh, nothing. Of course you're doing it for the children."

"Who else would I be doing it for?"

This time a sigh accompanied the second voice. "Heavens above, some things really never do change…"

Anna smiled, backing away from the door and thinking that perhaps Lady Mary wouldn't mind her using the spare space in the nursery after all. On her way back she found John who was coming out of the servants' hall with Jack.

"Where are you two off to?"

"Mr Branson offered to take us around the estate, a guided tour," he answered as Jack looked very pleased.

"That's an early present in itself," Anna exclaimed.

As Jack went off to fix on his boots and get himself ready, Anna touched John's arm, speaking low to him – mindful that their son wasn't that far away.

"I went to see Mrs Hughes about using her parlour for the girls to take a nap in, and overheard the funniest conversation."

"Oh yes?" John replied, with a smile starting on his face. "I suppose given that you're not a lady's maid anymore, it's quite alright for you to do that."

She shook her head at him, smiling. "Let's just say that I think the special guest at the party may be someone we know quite well, indeed."

"Hmm," John said, "someone who could fit into a red suit, you mean?"

"I couldn't possibly say," she answered, keeping an eye out for a certain acting butler coming around the corner.

* * *

The party took place in the library rather than any of the grander rooms, which made Anna and John feel more at ease in being there, and they enjoyed it, despite John's initial reservations. It helped that it was restricted to the family and those who had been their staff; it all felt like a homelier affair than if several society guests and their children were also in attendance.

It was particularly lovely to watch as their children played with the others, fitting in very well indeed. Of course, Jack had done some growing up with Miss Sybbie, Master George and Miss Caroline, but Anna knew that children could be fickle and quick to forget their old playmates once a certain amount of time had passed. She needn't have worried, however, as the Crawley children were quick to welcome Jack back into the fold, as well as including Emma and Charlotte too. Lady Edith had two children as well as Miss Marigold now, and with Daisy and Andy's two boys, Master Edward and a rather surprising addition of a little girl belonging to Mr Branson and Miss Lucy Smith, who were now married, it was quite a lively gathering.

After a while Lady Mary rose from her seat, clapping her hands together as gradually, silence fell among them all.

"Now, we've had quite a bit of fun tonight, and I'd like to thank all of our guests for coming to join us and making it so much more so. But now, we have a very special guest who's come along too. Can anyone guess who it is?"

"Donk!" Miss Marigold announced, to laughter from the adults who were assembled.

"No, darling," Lady Edith said, looking adoringly at her eldest while her youngest daughter sat on her knee, "but that is a good guess."

"It is, as Donk has gone to meet him." Lady Mary replied. "Let me see if they're ready."

Anna and John smiled at one another while Lady Mary installed herself by the door.

"Ah yes, here they are," she announced, skipping back into the room before his Lordship entered, along with the most special guest there could be at this time of year.

"Hello, everyone," said his Lordship, "sorry for keeping you all so long, but I was helping Father Christmas park his sleigh and settle his reindeer outside."

"Ho, ho, ho!" 'Father Christmas' said, heartily greeting the party, "Merry Christmas to all you boys and girls! As well as to your families too."

The faces of all of the children lit up on seeing him, with some shrieks of glee arising from the small crowd.

"Now," he said as he sat down on the sofa opposite to where Lady Mary, Lady Edith and the Countess were sitting, "I have some early presents to deliver to you all, one each. Who would like to go first?"

Master George was the one brave enough to lead the charge, followed by the other children in a surprisingly patient line. Anna smiled as she watched Jack letting his younger sisters go first to receive their presents. She noticed that Father Christmas was wearing his hat quite low down over his head, so that it hid his eyebrows.

"Anna," Daisy said from the left of her, "does that Father Christmas look familiar to you?"

"A little bit," Anna replied, looking to John again and finding it difficult to conceal her smile, "although I can't think where from."

From his spot, the jolly figure let out another deep call of 'ho, ho, ho," his voice quite unmistakable. As he went on speaking, the penny finally dropped with Daisy.

"Oh my god," she exclaimed in a quiet and shocked tone, as Anna and John grinned, "that might be the funniest thing I've ever seen."

"We'll have to let Mrs Christmas know when we see her," John whispered to Anna, as Father Christmas valiantly tried to escape the clutching hands of little Miss Caroline, who was aiming at his beard, "that her husband might be some time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever since the Text Santa Downton sketch, I've wanted to write something where Carson dressed as Father Christmas. This year the time finally came :D


	12. Presents

They expected that the children might sleep a little longer that morning, given that they'd been at the Abbey the night before. Yet dawn had hardly broken and the sound of footsteps could be heard on the landing.

Anna turned onto her side to face John, a smile curving her lips as she took her first sight of him that day.

"Do you regret not taking up Lady Mary on her offer of staying over for the day?" she said while the duvet cocooned them both, "I think she had the room we stayed in on our wedding night ready and waiting for us. That would have been a very nice way to wake up on Christmas morning."

"It would," John replied, his hand resting snug over her hipbone and his eyes, not long woken from sleep, warm and happy as they looked at her, "but nowhere could be nicer than being right here with you, my love."

"You are a charmer," Anna laughed, her hand moving down his arm to cup his elbow. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, mo ghrá."

Their lips met for a kiss, which they managed to enjoy alone. Between them they counted down to the moment when the first of their children entered the room to ask them if they could check whether Father Christmas had been; after all, as they had met the man himself at the Abbey the night before, then surely he would have dropped off their presents quite soon afterwards.

They had not made it to five until the door opened and Charlotte came running through, followed closely behind by Emma and Jack.

"Merry Christmas Mummy, Merry Christmas Daddy," the girls chorused almost in unison.

"Merry Christmas, Mum and Dad," Jack said, as he remained by the door.

"Merry Christmas, darlings," Anna said, reaching down to Charlotte for a hug, while John did the same to Emma. "Did you get enough sleep?"

"Yes," both Emma and Charlotte replied.

"Are you sure?" John asked, his voice deliberately serious, which made Anna smile.

"Yes!" the girls shouted.

"Okay," John answered, "We believe you."

"Can we go downstairs now?" asked Charlotte, sounding very sweet indeed.

"It's going to be quite a long day," John said, "are you sure you wouldn't like to get a little more sleep, just so that you're set up and ready for it?"

"Daddy, you are a silly egg," Emma, who was usually the quieter of the two, piped up, which caused Anna to erupt with laughter.

"A silly egg?" said John, pronouncing the words carefully, making them sound all the funnier.

"Yes," Charlotte cut in to back up her sister, "Mummy calls you it all the time."

John and Anna looked at one another over the heads of their little girls, smiling, and glad that they hadn't worked out the true saying just yet.

"And now you shall call me it too, and I couldn't think of a better title," he uttered, kissing the top of Emma's head.

"I don't think you are, Dad," Jack said, looking so tall in his pyjamas.

"Well, thank you, my lad."

Anna was beaming as she smiled at all three of her children and her husband, finding it hard to recall another time when she had felt as much peace.

"Come on, then," she said, "I think we've all waited quite long enough. Let's go downstairs and see what's what, shall we?"

The girls were thrilled to be given the full permission, and Jack looked very happy too, even if he was trying to be a bit more grown-up. They let the children head down the stairs, promising that they'd be with them right away – otherwise who knew what might await them both if they lingered for too long.

John's gaze was soft as it lingered upon Anna, watching her with pure love as she put her robe on. She caught him looking at her before too long, and broke into a wide grin.

"What are you smiling at, Mr Bates?"

"I could ask the same question of you," he returned without missing a beat.

"Well, I happen to think I'm very lucky," she said, placing her hands upon his sides, "I have the best husband and three wonderful children, and we'll be spending a perfectly lovely day together, just us. I'd say that gives me plenty to smile about."

His smile grew wider, his hand reaching to cover her stomach.

"I definitely think so, and I can't help thinking that I'm the luckiest man. And getting luckier and happier by the second."

She smiled back at him, placing her hand over his.

"I did try and put them off for just a little bit, for your sake," he went on to say.

"What did I tell you?" she said, trying and failing to look stern.

"I know," he answered, "and I'm not worrying, I promise that I'm not. I just know that it'll be a long day, and I don't want you to tire yourself out."

She let out a little laugh, stroking the curve of his hand with her thumb. "They'll be so excited that they'll be asleep by six o'clock, if not earlier. I'd say that gives us more than enough time to put our feet up."

"You do know best," he smiled, dipping a touch to kiss her forehead.

"And now I think it's best that we go downstairs, so that we don't miss out on them opening their presents completely."

They shouldn't have worried, as all three of them were either sitting on the settee or kneeling on the floor, waiting for their parents before making a start on the presents that were gathered at the foot of the tree. Once John had given them the nod to go ahead, it didn't take all that long for them to be fully unveiled. Dolls and teddies, balls and books, games and a kite were laid out across the floor, with cries of delight and an eagerness to start playing with the new toys one by one.

Anna and John exchanged gifts too, though they had only bought each other a couple each, but they were valued all the more. The children also presented their parents with some handmade gifts, which were very happily received.

"All of you," John said, looking at where Anna was perched on the settee, "Mummy and I have another present to let you know about. Though I'm afraid it's not a kitten, a puppy or another animal. But we hope you'll find it just as exciting."

The children went forward, kneeling before Anna, and John couldn't help thinking what a wonderful sight it was to see. He revelled in it for a moment or two, then went to sit beside her.

"Come the time when spring turns to summer, you'll have a little brother or sister," Anna announced, her eyes bright and her smile amongst the most beautiful that could ever be seen.

When their three children smiled back at them, and started excitedly talking about the new addition to their family, they both knew that they had the greatest presents they could ever wish for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have the 12 ficlets of Anna and Bates, and their children! A very Merry Christmas / holiday season to you all :)


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